


strange how hard it rains now

by likewinning



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal Life, M/M, Mental Institutions, Multi, Polyamory, Schizophrenia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 15:21:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6860581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likewinning/pseuds/likewinning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason doesn't think Bruce is crazy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	strange how hard it rains now

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to my favorite of them all, ohmcgee. holy shit did I complain about this one.
> 
> title from Patty Griffin.

When he's fifteen, Bruce takes him in. He should've had Jason arrested for stealing the wheels off his Lexus, but instead Bruce throws his head back and laughs, the way no one ever does in Crime Alley.

His mother used to laugh, Jason guesses. His mother used to sing songs and read him stories, until she got too sick to hold her head up. Jason doesn't even know where she's buried, some unmarked grave on the wrong side of Gotham Cemetery.

Wayne Manor gives him the creeps at first. Big empty rooms, stairways that seem to go on forever, hallways you could get lost down. Jason runs away three times before Dick catches up with him, pulls him into a hug hard enough to choke and says, "You're home now, kiddo. You don't need to leave your family."

Of course, Dick leaves. He teaches Jason how to climb the rooftops, and Jason teaches him how to make toast without burning the place down. He shows Jason how to drive Alfred absolutely crazy, and how to swim in the gigantic swimming pool, and then -

Dick's away at school when Bruce starts to crack.

At first, it doesn't bother Jason. He's used to people who are a little off-kilter. His mom used to throw salt over her shoulder, turn seven times to reverse a bad luck spell. At the end he found her on the floor a few times, too dizzy to keep turning. So when Bruce starts talking to himself - when Bruce starts fighting bad guys that aren't _there_ -

He doesn't call Dick.

"Bruce," Jason will say. He'll coax Bruce down from the roof until Bruce actually sees him, smiles at him, like Jason is some light he thought had gone out. "Hey Bruce, let's watch a movie or something, okay?"

They watch hundreds of movies. Old ones, new ones, ones Jason has seen dozens of times. He used to sneak into movie theaters for whole days at a time just to keep warm, picking pockets when he could. He and Bruce camp on the couch covered in blankets and Jason leans his head on Bruce's shoulder, breathes in toothpaste and rich boy cologne.

Jason doesn't think Bruce is crazy. Lonely, maybe - like when he stays up all night reading until Jason hops onto his bed and makes him read aloud. Jason curls up in Bruce's lap even though he's almost too big to fit, and Bruce keeps one hand on the book and the other in Jason's hair.

It isn't until - it isn't until Bruce calls him -

"Robin," Bruce says one night. It's past midnight, and Jason's up finishing his Chemistry homework. He couldn't get it done earlier because Bruce had been in one of those dark, awful moods where he didn't want to eat, so Jason had to drag him into the dining room and sit with him while Bruce poked at cold spaghetti.

"Bruce?" Jason asks. Bruce stands in the doorway, leans against the frame. His eyes are bright and manic and Jason keeps thinking how beautiful he looks.

(Sometimes, before it got bad, there were parties at Wayne Manor, and Bruce would dress up in his suit and tie and women would cling to him until Jason was sick with jealousy, until he'd pull Bruce aside -)

"No," Bruce says. "That's not - when we're out, you'll call me Batman."

Jason swallows. He doesn't say anything. He brushes aside notebooks and Chem notes and climbs off the bed, moves to stand in front of Bruce.

"Batman," he says. "Talk to me."

Bruce shakes his head. "There isn't _time_."

"Sure there is," Jason says. He takes Bruce by the hand and they sit on the stairs and Bruce tells him again how his parents died, only this time he tells Jason more - how he disappeared for years, trained to become something else, something Gotham's criminals would fear.

"What do you do to them?" Jason asks. Side by side, their bodies shake together for entirely different reasons.

"I stop them," Bruce says. "I - some of them aren't just criminals, Jay. They're madmen."

Jason shuts his eyes, holds on tighter to Bruce's hand.

"There's one," Bruce says. "He - no matter how many times I put him away, he always comes back."

"Bruce?" Jason asks. He tries to keep his voice steady, even when every part of him hurts. They've both been so good here, so - Jason can't remember being _happy_ , before he came here. "When does the Batman come out?"

Bruce looks at him. "At night," he says. "Always at night."

"And tonight?" Jason asks.

"You're going to be my partner," Bruce says. "Robin."

("My mom, she used to call me that," Dick told him once. They were out on the balcony while Jason smoked. Downstairs, the gardeners were mowing the lawn, and everything smelled like freshly cut grass. "I've never told anyone that, except Bruce." Dick smiled at him. "And now you.")

"What," Jason asks, "what about Dick?"

Bruce shakes his head. "He has his own city to protect now."

"Yeah," Jason says. He kisses Bruce's cheek. "I miss him, too."

Bruce nods. He's quiet for such a long time Jason starts to think he's fallen asleep. He's seen it before, after Bruce was awake for days and then crashed all at once.

"Do you have to go out tonight?" Jason asks.

"I have to stop them," Bruce says. "I -"

Jason leans forward, brushes his mouth against the stubble on Bruce's cheeks. "Bruce?" he asks. "For me? Stay home."

He knows it's cheating, knows that Bruce will do just about anything for him - but he says it anyway. They go back to Bruce's bedroom and take turns reading _To Kill a Mockingbird_ aloud until midway through Bruce stops and looks over at him.

"Jay?" he asks. His eyes are different, pupils just about normal.

"Yeah, Bruce," Jason says. He takes the book from Bruce's hand and sets it on the nightstand.

"I," Bruce says. "I think… have…"

Jason moves into Bruce's lap, holds his face in his hands. "It's okay," he says. "You're okay."

Bruce looks up at him. "You shouldn't have to tell me that. I should - Jay -"

Jason kisses him. He doesn't know what else to _do_ , how else to stop them both from panicking. He opens Bruce's mouth with his, and Bruce flips them over, covers Jason's body with his and pushes his shirt up, his sweatpants down.

Maybe Jason pretends not to notice those couple of times Bruce calls him _Robin._

 

*

 

Even then, he still doesn't call Dick. He doesn't talk about it to Alfred, either. Bruce has days, even weeks of full clarity, and Jason blames it on the stress of being a billionaire philanthropist or whatever, and not -

In the end, Bruce checks himself into Arkham. Maybe some part of him, swirled in with the part that thinks he goes out dressed like a bat every night to fight crime, can see that Jason and Alfred are never going to be able to do it, never going to be able to do anything but try to keep him safe with _them._

"I'm sorry," Bruce keeps telling him on the way there. Alfred has the partition up so it's just Bruce and Jason in the car. Jason keeps trying to be brave, but as soon as he takes a breath it feels like his chest might cave in, like he'll cry like he hasn't since his mother died. All those years squatting, fighting for a meal, and Jason hasn't cried, but now -

"Stop," Jason says. "You don't have to be sorry. You just have to promise you'll try to get _better_ , Bruce." He brings Bruce's hand to his mouth and kisses it. "I kinda need you, y'know?"

"Yes," Bruce says. "This city does."

"Y-yeah, Bruce."

"Don't come in," Bruce says when they arrive. "I don't - you don't need to see me this way, Jason. I don't want visitors."

"You kidding?" Jason asks. "I'll be here every day if I can."

Jason wants it to be the truth. He and Alfred don't say a word on the way back to Wayne Manor.

 

*

 

"You should've told me," Dick keeps saying as they pack up some of Bruce's things. "You should've called. I'm just a couple of hours away, Jay."

Jason throws a copy of _Persuasion_ in Bruce's bag. "I didn't want you to worry," Jason says.

"Didn't - _Jay_." Dick looks like he maybe wants to shake him. He's been pulling at his hair and chewing his nails since he got here. "Jay, he's - he's _seeing_ things, and - and - creating these things in his _head_. How -"

"He called me Robin," Jason says, and Dick flinches.

"He?" Dick sits down on Bruce's bed, and Jason sits next to him.

"Yeah," Jason says. "Right when it got really bad, he called me that. I know I should've called you, Dickie," he says. He puts his head on Dick's shoulder. "I'm sure he knew that, too. But we just wanted you to be happy."

Dick laughs, something harsh and hollow. "You know, kiddo, I spent years thinking I needed to get out on my own. Kept thinking I didn't want to be held up by Bruce's _money_. But you know what? I hated being away from you guys."

"Then you should've visited more, asshole," Jason teases.

"I know," Dick says. He swallows. "I thought it would make it harder to leave again." He shifts, takes Jason's face in his hands. "Hey. You know you did everything you could, right?"

"I -" _No._

"Jason," Dick says. "I mean it. You shouldn't have had to do this without me. You've been so brave."

"It doesn't feel like it," Jason says. "I feel like I gave up on him."

"Hey," Dick says. He squeezes Jason harder, touches his forehead to Jason's and says, "Neither of us are giving up on him, okay? He's gonna get better."

"Okay," Jason says, even though he doesn't believe him. Dick smells like Bruce's cologne and Jason can't help leaning into it, breathing in the skin on Dick's neck.

"Weirdo," Dick says, and his laugh sounds just about normal now. "That tickles."

" _You're_ the weirdo," Jason says. "Get your own cologne."

Dick pushes him back, tackles him onto the bed and plops down on top of him. The sheets still smell like him and Bruce. "You're crushing me," Jason points out.

"Nah," Dick says. "You're fine. You make a great pillow."

Jason snorts. "You just don't want to fold any more clothes."

"I can't _believe_ you told Alfred we'd do this. What were you trying to do, sneak in some contraband drugs?"

"Maybe," Jason says. "You got any, college boy?"

"Not to share with _minors_ ," Dick says, poking him in the stomach.

"Right," Jason says. Dick settles against his chest, and then he says, "I'm gonna take a semester off, Jay. Maybe two. Move back in here to -"

"You don't have to," Jason says. This is exactly what he didn't want, Dick uprooting his _life_.

Dick lifts his head up. "That wasn't up for discussion. You're sixteen, Jason. Someone has to keep you out of trouble."

Jason raises an eyebrow. "And you think you're the man for the job?"

Dick makes a move to smack him upside the head but Jason blocks him, and they wrestle around the bed and on top of Bruce's clothes until Dick gets him pinned by the wrist. He rubs his nose against Jason's and Jason tilts his head up, catches Dick's mouth with his. The kiss starts out lazy and then turns frantic, nothing like they used to be.

"Yeah," Jason says, pulling back. Dick's eyes are wide and his grip on Jason's wrists kind of hurts. "I guess you can stay."

"Good," Dick says. He lets Jason go and sits up. "Come on, let's grab some lunch before we finish packing. I'm _starved_."

Jason nods and follows him out of the room, and Dick asks, "We'll go see Bruce tomorrow morning, okay?"

"Yeah," Jason says. "Okay."

 

*

 

Bruce has a room to himself. The windows don't open, and when they take Bruce for a walk around the grounds, Bruce tips his head up to the sky like he hasn't seen the sun in weeks.

"Sorry we didn't come sooner," Dick says. "You must be going crazy in here -" Jason shoots him a look. "I just mean…"

"I know what you mean," Bruce says. "That's all right." They make him wear scrubs here, blue green and hanging low on Bruce's hips. Somehow he looks smaller here, like something's been drained out of him. Jason guesses that's probably whatever meds they've got him on.

"Are they treating you okay?" Dick asks. _He_ doesn't look worried, but he hasn't seen what Jason's seen.

"Yes," Bruce says. He keeps glancing behind them like someone's there, but they're the only ones outside right now except for a gardener. "It's been -" Bruce stops suddenly, and Dick asks, "Bruce?"

Bruce looks at both of them. His eyes are wide and bright, and Jason knows it's coming, but -

"Did you bring everything I asked for?"

"Yep," Dick says. He doesn't _get_ it. "Jason packed up your favorite books. I found some clothes in case they ever let you out of the hospital gear. Brought your sketchbook, and -"

"And the suit?" Bruce asks. "Did you bring the suit?"

"What suit?" Dick asks. He grins, teases, "You planning on attending some fancy parties while you're here?"

"No," Bruce says. "The Batsuit. I've been hearing reports of -"

"I brought it," Jason interrupts, because Dick looks like he's about to start saying things that are just going to upset Bruce, and Bruce doesn't _need_ that right now. "It's in with your other stuff."

Bruce smiles at him, and there's a light to his eyes that Jason has missed, has needed, and Jason wants to taste that smile, wants -

"Thank you, Jason," Bruce says. He cups Jason's cheek, runs his fingers through his hair. "You've always understood the mission."

"Yes," Jason lies. He shuts his eyes and lets Bruce pet him until Dick clears his throat. They both look up at him, and Dick says, "We should head back inside. Maybe get you some lunch."

"That sounds fine," Bruce agrees.

They let Bruce lead the way, and Jason keeps an eye on Dick. He looks shaken, the color in his cheeks all but gone, and this isn't anything near what Jason dealt with for months. Part of him wants to yell at Dick, wants to tell him he has no _idea_ \- but Jason could've called.

He could've, maybe, stopped this sooner, if he hadn't been so afraid to lose Bruce.

They aren't allowed to eat lunch with Bruce, so they say goodbye outside the lunchroom. Bruce pulls them both in, big strong arms easily caging them in warmth. Jason doesn't want to leave, or maybe, more accurately, he wants to take Bruce with them. Bruce isn't _that_ crazy. He's not -

"Take care of yourself, Bruce," Dick says, and Bruce squeezes them once before letting go. They pull back, and he looks at both of them in turn. It's _that_ look, the one like he's seeing a miracle, the one that hooked Jason in for _good_.

"You boys," he says. "You take care of each other, all right? It won't be long."

More than anything, Jason wants to believe him.

 

*

 

He and Dick fight all the time. They fight about school, about what to eat for dinner, about the music Jason plays. They fight about Dick's stupid clutter all over the manor, the fact that he can't leave Jason alone for more than five seconds at a time.

More than anything, they fight about Dick's friends.

"It's just Wally," Dick says, when Jason gets silent and moody about it. "He misses me, you know? I think maybe he's had to write his papers all by himself."

"Whatever," Jason says. "Every time he's here, he doesn't leave for days."

"It won't be that long," Dick says. He wraps his arm around Jason's shoulder, and Jason presses into the warmth of him before he can stop himself. Dick never should've left them. Dick -

("You shouldn't have to stay home with me all the time," Bruce told him once. It was just before things got bad - they'd stopped going to museums all the time, stopped going to the theater and charity galas. Jason didn't mind, not really - he just spent most of the time at the galas getting drunk on champagne, rubbing up against Bruce's expensive suit.)

"That's why I want you to go to school," Dick says. "You need to make friends, Jaybird. Get out in the world. Forget -"

"About Bruce?" Jason asks.

"No," Dick says. He puts both hands on Jason's shoulders, moves in and kisses his forehead. Jason's almost as tall as he is now. "Never that."

Jason curls up against Dick's chest, breathes in his cologne and pretends it's Bruce holding him, Bruce's strong arms holding him, Bruce's heart thumping in his ear. It's not that Dick isn't good to him, doesn't care about him, it's just - Dick isn't enough, and they both know it.

Neither of them are enough.

"Hey," Dick says. He combs his fingers through Jason's hair. "I'll tell Wally not to come over, okay? We'll hang out, maybe go see a movie. They're playing Indy at that theater on 2nd."

"Nah," Jason says. "Hang out with your idiot friend. I'm being a jerk."

"Jay…" Dick starts, and Jason steps back and looks at him. His hair's getting too long and his cheekbones look too stark with the weight he's lost. Not for the first time, Jason thinks maybe everything that's happening is his fault.

"I'm okay, Dickie," Jason says. "Promise."

 

*

 

Dick and Wally go out drinking that night while Jason stays home. He still sleeps in Bruce's bed, and he stays up reading the same books he and Bruce have read a hundred times. It's after one in the morning when Dick comes home, pokes his head into Jason's room and then flops down on the bed when he sees Jason's awake.

"You lost?" Jason asks.

"Uh-uh," Dick says. His face is flushed and his fly's open, and he squirms around on the bed until Jason kicks him.

"You have a good time?" Jason asks.

"Uh-huh," Dick says. He grins up at Jason, sloppy drunk and bright eyed. Jason -

(At the parties Bruce took him to, he'd steal champagne until he was too drunk to stand up straight, until Bruce would have to carry him to the car, carry him up the stairs to their room.

"You know better," Bruce would say, and Jason would giggle and burrow his face against Bruce's neck and promise him he _didn't_.)

"You gonna read me a story?" Dick asks. He rolls until his head is in Jason's lap, and Jason feels his breath on his skin.

"I'm all out of picture books," Jason says.

"Shut up," Dick snorts. "I've read grown-up books before."

"Cliff's Notes don't count," Jason says.

"Jerk," Dick says. He tips his head up to see what Jason's reading. " _The Hobbit_?" Dick asks. "Is that the little guy from _Lord of the Rings_?"

"This one came first," Jason tells him. He sets the book on the nightstand and plays with Dick's hair. "What did you guys get up to?"

"Bar hopped, mostly," Dick says. He yawns. "Wally wanted me to be his wingman but he kept making an ass of himself."

"Shocking," Jason says. "He go home?"

"Crashed on the couch downstairs," Dick mutters. "Stairs were too much for him."

"Right."

"I missed you tonight, Jay," Dick says.

"Yeah," Jason says. It's too quiet in the house when it's just him and Alfred. Jason forgot how much this place used to creep him out. It never felt weird after he started sleeping in Bruce's bed, but now -

"I miss Bruce, too," Dick says.

"Yeah," Jason says. "I know, Dickie."

Dick pushes himself up so he's sitting next to Jason. He rubs his face against Jason's bare shoulder, his stubble scratching Jason's skin. "Y'know," Dick says. "I was really jealous of you at first."

"Yeah?" Jason asks.

"Yeah," Dick says. "It was just us for so long, and then Bruce brought you home, and - and I didn't want to have to _share_."

"It never seemed like that," Jason says. "You were always nice to me." Until you left, Jason doesn't say.

"You were so close right away," Dick says. "I never - I didn't think he'd _let_ me -"

"He wouldn't have," Jason says. He moves until he's sitting in Dick's lap, facing him.

"Jay?" Dick asks.

"You never would've _pushed_ like I did. You never -"

"Hey," Dick says. He puts his hands on Jason's hips, and Jason takes a sharp breath. "It wasn't your fault what happened to Bruce, Jay. You know that, right?"

Jason looks down. "Sometimes," he says.

"Jay…"

"He was never like that when you were around," Jason says. "It must've been me who -"

"Drove him crazy?" Dick asks, and he laughs when Jason nods. "You definitely did that, kiddo. But not the way you think. You know I asked him about it once, the first time I saw you in his bed. I think he thought I was gonna call the cops or something, but I just wanted to _know_."

"And?" Jason asks. Dick squeezes his hips, swallows.

"He said he couldn't help himself," Dick says. He licks his lips. "I think I get that now."

"Dick?" Jason asks.

"Jay," Dick says. "Can I touch you?"

Jason knows he should probably say no. Knows this could get messy, that he could break Dick the way he broke Bruce. But Dick's hands feel so good on his skin, warm and right and Bruce is _gone_ -

"Yeah," Jason says. Dick hooks his fingers in Jason's boxers and Jason lifts his hips so Jason can push them down, and then Dick's hand is warm and tight around him and Jason _groans_ because -

He hasn't touched himself, even, since Bruce has been gone, and he's starved for it now, desperate for the way Dick brings him in closer and holds him while Jason fucks into his fist. "That's it," Dick tells him. "You feel so good, Jay."

"So do you," Jason says. He looks down and sees that Dick's cupping himself through his sweats, and for just a few seconds Jason isn't thinking about Bruce at all, isn't thinking about anything except how much he wants to _taste_.

"Wanna touch you," Jason says. "Wanna _suck_ you."

Dick moans, and it's enough to set Jason off, enough to make him come all over Dick's hand. He reaches for Dick's hand as soon as he lets go of Jason, brings Dick's fingers up to his mouth and _sucks_.

"Oh, god," Dick says. His mouth is open and his eyes are _dark_. "Jay, you - that's -"

Jason pulls off him with a slurp, unties the strings of Dick's sweatpants and shoves them out of the way. " _Jay_ ," Dick says, and it almost sounds like no.

"Dick," Jason says. He licks the head of his dick, says, "Let me, okay?"

Dick cups Jason's face, brushes his fingers through his hair. "This how you got him, too?"

"Yeah," Jason says. "Something like that."

He shuts his eyes when he takes Dick into his mouth, focuses on the taste of him, the sounds Dick makes when he takes him in deeper. Dick's close already; Jason can tell from the way his hips stutter, the way his grip tightens in Jason's hair every time Jason pulls up to swirl his tongue around the head of his dick.

"Jay," Dick says. " _Jason_ ," and Jason opens his eyes just in time to see Dick lose control. He throws his head back and pulls Jason's hair and Jason keeps sucking until there's nothing left, until Dick whines and pushes him back.

Jason sits up, and neither of them says anything for a minute while Dick gets his breath back.

"Jay," Dick says then. "Was that - are you -"

"We're good, Dickie." Jason's hands are shaking and he wants to talk to Bruce right _now_ , wants to hear his voice.

"Jason," Dick says. "If that wasn't -"

"No," Jason says. He pulls up his boxers and crawls off Dick, moves back up the bed next to him. "I just," he says. He puts his head on Dick's shoulder, and Dick takes his hand in his. "When you left," Jason says. "I was so mad, you know? I mean I got it, but… I fucking missed you, man. And now you're back, but -"

"Bruce is gone," Dick finishes.

"Yeah," Jason says. "I just feel like it's my fault."

"That's because you're an idiot," Dick says. Jason bites his shoulder, and Dick laughs. "No one saw this coming, okay? It's nobody's fault."

"I guess not," Jason says, and Dick pinches him. "That didn't sound confident enough, Jay."

"Fucker," Jason says. Dick yawns, and Jason shoves him. "Go to bed," he says. "You take up too much room."

Dick replies by rolling over and squishing him into the bed. Jason doesn't bother pushing him off, just reaches for the light and falls asleep in minutes.

 

*

 

They speak to the doctor before they see Bruce. Her name is Dr. Quinzel and she's young and pretty and she smiles a lot. "The medication seems to be working well," she says. "There have only been a few outbursts lately."

"Outbursts?" Dick asks, and Dr. Quinzel nods, looks back and forth between them.

"It seems to happen mostly at night," she says. "Around midnight or so he gets anxious, restless, starts talking about going out to patrol the city."

_Batman_ , Jason doesn't say.

"Patrol," Dick repeats. "You mean, like, he thinks he's a cop?"

Dr. Quinzel looks at Jason. "You haven't told him?" she asks, and Jason shakes his head. He hasn't really told Dick about Batman, about who Robin is supposed to _be_. Dick has been panicked enough; every time they drive over here, Dick sits tense behind the wheel, chewing his lip raw.

"Told me what?" Dick asks.

"Bruce's delusions involve him believing himself to be some kind of vigilante," Dr. Quinzel says. "He calls himself the Batman, and goes out at night to fight Gotham's criminals. Not just ordinary ones - what you and I would think of as supervillains."

"Jesus," Dick says. He looks at Jason for a second, and Jason feels guilt stab him in the stomach. "But - but the medicine is helping?"

"Somewhat, yes," Dr. Quinzel. "But these things take time, and there's no telling how long the effects will last. This isn't a curable disease, Mr. Grayson, but with the right medicine it _is_ treatable."

Dick looks ready to cry. Jason reaches for his wrist and squeezes, looks up at Dr. Quinzel and thanks her for her time.

"Of course," she says. She smiles. "He talks about you a lot. Both of you. He's very lucky to have you both."

Jason isn't sure she's right - part of him is still certain this is his _fault_ \- but he smiles back at her and leads Dick to Bruce's room.

Bruce is sitting in a chair by the window when they come in, holding a book open in his hands. For a second, Jason's reminded of all those times they'd sit outside in the sun reading while Dick ran around the yard doing cartwheels and backflips. Then Bruce looks up at them and smiles, and it's not the right smile -

Jason wants to _go_ -

"Hey, boss," Jason says. He steps into the room and walks over to Bruce, leans against the windowsill. "Whatcha readin'?" he asks, and Bruce blinks at him and turns the book over to see the cover.

"Something that must not be good," Bruce says. He scratches at his wrist where the hospital band sits. "I can't seem to hold any of the words together."

Jason looks over at Dick. He's shifting back and forth on his feet, picking at some chipped paint on the windowsill. "Are they doping you up too much?" he asks.

"I don't know," Bruce says. He looks at both of them and Jason takes the book out of his hands, kneels down on the floor in front of him.

"Bruce," he says. "Talk to me."

Bruce nods, drums his fingers on Jason's shoulder. "I think…" he says. "I don't know if I'm… supposed to be here."

Jason hears Dick take a sharp breath behind him. It's stuffy in this room, and the windows don't open, and the floor is cold on Jason's skin. "Bruce," Jason says. "You remember you checked yourself in right?"

"Yes," Bruce says. "But…" They wait, and Bruce says nothing else, and then Bruce takes the book back out of Jason's hand and tosses it across the room. "I can't read this garbage. I can barely - I trained myself for _better_."

"Okay," Jason says. "Dickie," he says. "Find us something better to read, okay?"

"Sure," Dick says, and while he rummages around the room, Jason holds both of Bruce's hands in his and asks, "Are you sleeping okay?" There are circles under Bruce's eyes, not as bad as when Bruce first checked himself in, but still - he's supposed to be resting. Getting better.

"Sometimes," Bruce says. "I…" He leans down, says quiet enough that Dick maybe can't hear them over all his shuffling, "Last night I. Found myself looking for a way out."

Jason's chest hurts. He squeezes Bruce's hands, looks up at him and murmurs, "To patrol?"

"Yes," Bruce says. "Jason, I need -"

"Here's one," Dick says, and he thumps a hardcover book gently against Jason's back. Jason takes the book from him, looks at it. "You know there aren't any pictures in this," Jason says. Dick sticks his tongue out at him.

"Yeah," Dick says. "But I remember you guys reading this one. And then I went away, and…"

Jason feels Bruce tense, but then he reaches for Dick, takes his wrist and says, "You did what was best for you."

"Maybe," Dick says. He pushes his free hand through his hair, and he looks ready to bolt from the room; it's too small for him, not enough space to burst into cartwheels and pace until he wears the floor down. "But if I hadn't left, maybe you…"

"No," Bruce says. He shakes his head, smiles at both of them in turn. The sun hits the blue of his eyes just right and it catches Jason's breath. "I had Jason with me. I -"

It lingers in the room for a second, him and Bruce. None of them really talk about it, especially not when it's all three of them. Dick clears his throat and says, "Come on, Jay. Tell us a story."

Jason reads the first couple chapters of _Persuasion_ over the next hour, and then Dick goes to see about getting them some lunch. Once he's out of the room, Jason moves from the bed back over to Bruce's chair, moves up behind him and wraps his arms around him, kisses the top of his head.

"I miss you," he says, and Bruce tilts his head up, looks at him and laughs. "Shut up," Jason says. "It's _true_."

"I know," Bruce says. "But I'll be out of here soon. Just have to… figure out a way."

"You will," Jason assures him. He moves between Bruce's legs so he can really kiss him, forgets to remind himself that Bruce is crazy and just focuses on the scratch of stubble, Bruce's soft lips, his wet, searching tongue -

"God," Jason breathes out. "I miss your _smell_."

Bruce holds him still with both hands on his face, says, "I miss everything about you." He licks his lips, says, "Do you think Robin will find a way out?"

Jason pulls back, starts to say, "Bruce," but Dick comes back in with a tray of food and they all settle in to eat. Dick talks about school and Jason - doesn't, and Bruce looks at him every now and then but doesn't ask, because even before things went crazy it was still a fight they had all the time.

Friends weren't important, and neither was homework. It was more important to be with Bruce, to know -

He _was_ all right. Before. Jason - Jason knows that, sometimes.

It's late afternoon by the time they leave, and Jason pulls Bruce into a bone-crushing hug first, drags Dick in with him. They're quiet for a while in the car, except for Dick fussing with the radio stations, turning the air on and off, opening and then closing his windows -

"Dick," Jason says. "Out with it."

Dick looks caught out, and he puts both hands back on the steering wheel and glances at Jason. "Just," he says. "I wonder if we're doing the right thing."

"Dickie," Jason says. He's quiet, so quiet, can't figure out how to make himself any louder. "He's sick."

And Dick looks - hurt, like Jason's the first person to make him _realize_ that. It's a long time before he says anything; they're out of the city before Dick asks, "Jay? What are we gonna do?"

_That's what you're here to figure out_ , Jason thinks, but he doesn't say it, just tips his head back against the window and says, "We'll be fine, Dickie. All of us."

It might be a lie, but it gets them home.

 

*

 

Jason does go to school, sometimes. Sometimes he stays for all of his classes, does more than doodle monsters in the margins of his tests. But Dick is right - he doesn't really have any _friends_ there.

His history teacher pulls him aside one afternoon after class. He waits until everyone else has left the room, and then he leans back against his desk and asks, "How's everything at home?"

"Fine," Jason says. The teacher's name is Mr. Ross, and Jason likes him as much as he likes any teacher, even though his homework assignments take him twice as long as for any other class - when he _does_ the assignments, anyway.

Mr. Ross nods. "I heard about your father," he says, and Jason blinks at him for a second before he realizes he means Bruce.

"He's not my father," Jason says.

"Even still," he says. "I'm very sorry. If there's anything I can do -"

"There isn't," Jason says. "I have to get to my next class."

"Jason -" but Jason's already gone, all but running out of the room. He doesn't go to his next class, or the one after that. He sits under the bleachers and smokes, blasts his headphones and tries to think about anything but Bruce.

When it all started, he thought Bruce would get better. But now -

He hasn't told Dick, but the night before last, Jason got a call from the hospital at three in the morning. It was Bruce, asking where he was.

"I need you," Bruce said, talking quiet so no one would hear him, and Jason shut his eyes and used every bit of strength he had not to say _I need you, too_.

"Bruce," Jason said. "Shouldn't you be sleeping? It's late, and -"

"I can't," Bruce said. "Not until I find him."

"Find _who_?" Jason asked, but before Jason could answer there was noise in the background, and Jason knew they were taking him back to his room, probably doping him _up_ -

Dick would just worry if he knew. Dick keeps talking like soon enough he'll be able to get back to school, back to his life, and everything will go back to - normal, or whatever.

Dick picks him up from school a few hours later, and he looks Jason up and down before he asks, "You go to class today?"

"Some of them," Jason mumbles.

"Jay…"

"Dickie," Jason says. "I don't wanna hear it. It's not - I'm -"

"Jay," Dick says. He's wearing sunglasses and a black v-neck t-shirt, and he looks just like he'd fit in with all the kids at Jason's school. When they were still in the same school, Jason used to avoid him in the hallways, not wanting anyone to know Dick had some punkass little brother, but Dick always caught up with him, always tried to drag him to lunch and ask him about his day.

"Come on," Dick says. "You don't want to just live off of Bruce's money all your life, do you?"

" _You_ do it," Jason says.

"But I don't want to do that forever," Dick says. "That's why I'm in school. Don't you want to -"

Jason scrunches himself against the passenger door and shuts his eyes. "You know what I want."

Dick sighs. "He's going to get better, you know. You'll see."

"Yeah," Jason says. "But what if he doesn't?"

Dick doesn't answer him, not until they're pulling into the driveway. Then he pulls Jason toward him and says, "He's not the only thing that makes us family, Jason. It's still you and me. Even if…"

Jason shoves Dick's sunglasses up, brushes his knuckles along the stubble on Dick's cheek. "It's just," Jason says. "Without him around, I don't know…"

"You're Jason," Dick says. He kisses Jason's cheek, then his chin, then nuzzles his neck. "You're the best kid I know, even when you're a pain in the ass."

"Moron," Jason says.

"Yeah," Dick says, lifting his head back up and grinning. "But I've got a high school diploma, so I win."

"Oh," Jason laughs, "is that how it works?"

"Yep," Dick says. "Now come on, let's go. You've got homework to do, or no cartoons."

" _You're_ the one who watches -"

They walk back to the house with Dick whistling the _Powerpuff Girls_ theme song.

 

*

 

Dick's not home yet when Roy shows up, yelling Jason's name up the stairs. "Idiot," Jason says from the top of the stairs. "You trying to wake the dead or something?"

"Nope," Roy says. He barrels up the stairs, scoops Jason up in his arms and swings him around. "I'm _trying_ to bring a little life to this mausoleum. Jeez, kiddo, you're getting _big_."

"I'm almost seventeen," Jason tells him, slithering out of his grasp. "I'm going to outgrow _both_ of you assholes pretty soon."

Roy grins at him. There's a new piercing in his ear, a new tattoo running up his shoulder, and his hair's a lot longer since the last time Jason saw him. Bruce never really liked Roy coming around, but any time Dick came home from school, Roy was sure to follow along, dragging Jason out with them for burgers and fries and milkshakes.

"So," Roy says once they set his stuff down in one of the guest rooms. He opens the window to let some air in, flops onto the bed with his boots still on. "How you holding up, Jaybird?"

Jason shrugs. He sits down on the edge of the bed, twists the frayed ends of Roy's jeans in his fingers. "You want the real answer?"

Roy looks over at him. He doesn't say anything for a minute, but then he rolls back off the bed, grabs something out of his backpack and says, "Come with me." Jason follows him down the hall until they reach one of the balconies. They step outside, and Roy pulls a joint out of the little bag he grabbed and lights it up.

"You know Dickie's gonna kill you," Jason says.

"Uh-huh, maybe," Roy says. He takes the first hit, then says, "Or maybe he's lightened up a bit."

It takes a couple of hits, but soon enough Jason's talking, really talking, about everything - about Bruce going crazy, about Dick, about not being able to tell Dick the whole truth because he'd never be able to deal with it. He sits back against Roy's chest and Roy holds onto him, rubs his chest and reminds him to breathe every so often.

"Roy," Jason says, and it sounds like his voice comes from far away. "What am I gonna do?"

"Well, first," Roy says, "you're gonna keep reminding yourself that none of this is your fault. It's outta your hands. And after _that_ \- you figure out what you _can_ do."

Jason blinks, stares out at the yard before them. "I can't tell if that made any sense or not."

They both laugh, and the door opens behind them and Dick steps outside. "Now," he says, "how did I know I'd find you two degenerates out here?"

Jason stares up at him, feels himself smiling without really knowing why except that Roy is warm against him and Dick's looking at him with the kind of fondness Bruce always used to.

"Followed our breadcrumbs, huh?" Roy asks. He pulls Dick down into a hug that threatens to crush Jason, and Jason giggles and breathes in his cologne. Dick lets go and takes a seat next to Jason, looks at Roy. "How long are you staying?"

"Dunno," Roy says. "Long as you can stand me, I suppose."

"Roy…" Dick starts, and Jason pokes him in the side. "Don't start already," he says. "We could use the company."

"Yeah," Dick says. He lays back on the balcony, his hair spreading out behind him. "I guess you're right."

 

*

 

Roy stays for about a week. While Jason's supposed to be asleep one night - it's a school night, for all that Jason still goes - Jason wakes up to the sound of Dick and Roy arguing. At first he can't make out any of what they're saying, just the noise of it, but then -

"Fine, then we won't talk about it," Roy says. "We won't talk about how you're _throwing your whole life away_ living in a goddamn haunted mansion."

"That's not -" Dick starts, and Jason wants to cover his ears with his pillow and drown them out, but -

"So, what?" Roy asks. "You gonna make Jay stay here with you after he graduates? What if he never gets better, Dickie?"

Whatever Dick says in response, it's too quiet for Jason to hear. Jason gets out of bed, opens his door as quietly as he can and listens, but their voices are too quiet now. Jason falls halfway back to sleep just sitting there, and then the door to Dick's room opens down the hall, and Roy stops where Jason's sitting, brushes his knuckles over Jason's cheek.

"Hey, kiddo," he says. "Sorry if we woke you."

"It's okay," Jason says. "I -" _Neither of us are throwing our lives away_ , he almost says, but he's not entirely sure if that's true. Bruce has been gone so long the sheets don't even smell like him anymore, and sometimes Jason forgets what Bruce's laugh sounds like, how his hands feel squeezing Jason's thighs.

Roy smiles at him. "You know I just want what's best for you two, right?"

"Yeah," Jason says. "I know."

 

*

 

The next day, Roy picks him up from school. He drums his hands on the steering wheel as he pulls away from the curb, looks at Jason over his sunglasses and grins. "Man," he says. "You must've hated it when you first started going to fancy richboy school."

Jason snorts. "Trust me," he says. "I still hate it."

"So why do you go?" Roy asks, and Jason looks at him like he's crazy.

"I'm sixteen," he says. "If anyone finds out I'm not going to school, on top of Dick not _technically_ being my legal guardian, I'm totally fucked."

"Why _isn't_ he?" Roy asks. He turns the music down a notch, and Jason realizes they're not driving the right way to get back to the Manor.

"Because," Jason says. "Bruce is _going_ to get better. They just started him on some new medications, and - and he'll be out in no time. You'll see."

Roy frowns, looks over at him, but it's not until he pulls over that he says, "Look, Jay. I know you and Dick have this - this _faith_ in Bruce, and that's great. People can get better. But -" he grabs Jason's hand and squeezes it, and Jason has this sudden urge to jump out of the car rather than face this conversation. "But you've gotta be ready for the possibility that he _won't_."

Jason looks down at their entwined hands, at the symbol tattooed on Roy's wrist, at the Chinese character on Roy's index finger in black ink. "If I let myself consider it," Jason says, "I'll go as crazy as Bruce is right now." He looks up at Roy, blinks away the tears forming in his eyes. "I know you're trying to help, but - I gotta believe he's coming back to me, Roy - to both of us."

Roy nods, squeezes Jason's hand again before he lets go. 

"Where are we going, anyway?" Jason asks. They're in downtown Gotham, and not a nice part of town.

"Record store," Roy says. "And right next to it, there's this bookshop I think you'll like." At Jason's questioning look, Roy smiles and says, "Dickie told me you collect first editions. I told him you're too pretty to be that big of a nerd, but he insisted it's true."

"It is," Jason says, laughing and blushing all at once. 

They park, and Roy heads over to the record store while Jason wanders through the bookstore, running his fingers over dusty, cracking spines, picking up things he already owns just to read the different inscriptions. He's there for what could be hours, long enough that when Roy finds him, wraps his arms around him from behind and rests his chin on his shoulder, Jason jumps about a foot.

"Easy," Roy laughs. "You find anything good?"

"Yeah," Jason says. There's a few for the collection back home, and another couple for Bruce to read while - while. He pays for the books and they get back in the car, and Jason looks over at Roy. It's not that warm out, but he's still wearing a shirt with the sleeves cut off, some band's name on the front that Jason's never heard of, tattoos showing all down his arms. Bruce has always hated tattoos, _sniffed_ when Jason talked once about getting some, but on Roy, they're beautiful.

"I don't want to go home yet," Jason says, and Roy looks at him, pops his sunglasses back on and says, "Whatever you want, Jaybird."

They park a little ways from Wayne Manor, close enough that they can still see the house. Roy shuts off the engine and Jason waits, waits, waits, until finally he asks, "Kiss me?"

Roy _grins_ , leans over the seat and gets his hand in Jason's hair, gets his tongue in Jason's mouth and _fucks_. Jason moans into it, kisses back and climbs over the seat and into Roy's lap. Roy puts the seat back, rubs Jason's mouth with his thumb.

"God, baby," Roy says. "You're so pretty, you know that?" he asks, and Jason feels himself blush. Roy slides his hand down, lifts Jason's shirt and pops his dress pants open. "This okay?" he asks, and Jason nods, shuts his eyes and bites down hard on his lip when Roy touches him.

It's not the same as Bruce, not even close, but it's good. Roy talks the whole time, tells him how good he feels in his hand, how beautiful he is, and Jason holds onto Roy's shoulders, bites down on his lip until Roy says, "No, c'mon, let me hear you," and Jason lets go, comes looking at Roy, for just a second not thinking about -

Roy lets go of him, brings his hand to his mouth and licks it clean and Jason shivers. "C'mere," Roy says, and Jason moves down and kisses him, doesn't realize how _much_ he's shaking until Roy holds onto him, says, "Ssh, it's okay. Maybe we shouldn't - I just thought -"

"No," Jason says. He tilts his head enough to look at Roy. "I wanted to, I just… I miss him so much."

Roy frowns, kisses the top of Jason's head. "I know," he says. They stay there for a while, until the sun starts going down and Roy says, "C'mon. Let's go see what Alfred has for dinner."

He leaves later that night. Jason's been expecting it - Roy's not the type to stay anywhere for long - but he's still grateful that Roy comes to see him before he goes.

"Listen," Roy says. They're hugging, and Jason's hanging on maybe too tight, the way he always seems to with everyone. Maybe if he hadn't grabbed on so hard to Bruce -

"Listen," Roy says again. "You ever need anything - and I mean _anything_ \- you call me, okay? I'll come get you."

"Yeah," Jason says, but Roy must hear the doubt, because he squeezes harder, kisses Jason's cheek and says, "I mean it. You call me. Anytime. Okay?" Roy pulls back to look at him, and Jason nods.

"Okay," he says. He lets out a heavy breath. "Okay, I will."

"Good deal," Roy says. He kisses Jason's cheek, the other side this time, and then he's gone, talking to Dick somewhere downstairs from what Jason can hear.

Jason gets back into bed, and a little while later he feels Dick get in beside him, curl around him without a word. "Not yet," Dick says softly, like maybe he thinks Jason's asleep. "You can't leave us yet. You just got here."

Jason doesn't say anything. He doesn't want to lie.

 

*

 

"I've been thinking about - the future," Jason tells Bruce one day. He had Alfred drive him here alone. He knows Alfred sees Bruce every day, while Jason's at school or whatever, but he never comes in at the same time as Jason does.

They're sitting outside in the grass. It's a beautiful spring day, and Bruce has been here almost a year. Jason lays back, puts his head on Bruce's legs and squints up at him. Bruce plays with his hair idly. They're still doping him up too much, and Jason can't tell if Bruce really sees him, if he's really listening.

"I don't want to go to college," Jason says. "I can barely deal with school now, and I want to get _out_." When Bruce winces, Jason says. "Not - not away from you, Bruce. Just. I'd like to travel some, you know? Like you did when you were my age."

"That was training," Bruce says, and Jason - Jason wants to cry, a little, the way he always does when unreality slips into their conversations.

The problem is - the trouble is - sometimes Bruce says these things with such confidence that Jason believes him.

"Yeah," Jason says. He takes Bruce's hand, kisses his palm. "Would you hate me, if I left? You know I'd come back."

It's a year away. By then, Bruce could be well again, and then Jason wouldn't even think about leaving - or they could travel together. They could take Dick with them, travel around Europe like rich assholes.

"Jay," Bruce says. He lifts Jason up, gets him in his arms and kisses him. Jason clings to his arms, to the scratchy material of his hospital scrubs. Bruce holds onto him until Jason stops shaking - he didn't even know he _was_ \- and then someone clears their throat and Jason looks up.

It's Doctor Quinzel, holding a clipboard and looking a little embarrassed. She can't be more than a few years older than Dick, really. "Sorry to interrupt," she says. "It's time for your afternoon session, Bruce."

"Yes," Bruce says. He helps Jason to his feet, says, "Our apologies, Dr. Quinzel."

"Harley, Bruce, I told you," she says, and she smiles brightly, all white teeth. Her eyes are big and blue behind her glasses, and her hair is actually down today.

"Right," Bruce says. Dr. Quinzel looks at both of them, scrutinizing, but whatever she sees, she doesn't comment on. 

"Hey," Jason says. He squeezes Bruce's hand, stands on his tiptoes to kiss Bruce's cheek. "I'll see you soon, okay? Be good."

"You, too," Bruce says. Jason watches him follow Dr. Quinzel back inside. He stays on the grass for a few minutes longer, trying to remember how to breathe.

 

*

 

In the summer, they change Bruce's medications again. This time when he and Dick go to see him, his eyes seem too big for his face, and he chatters non-stop about everything: the books he's been reading and rereading, the other inmates, the things he and Dr. Quinzel talk about during therapy sessions. Jason can hardly keep up.

Dick, just like every time they change Bruce's meds, seems excited. He seems to think that these new pills, like the ones before were supposed to be, will be magic, and Bruce will come home any day now. Jason doesn't have the heart to tell him the truth, at least not in front of Bruce.

"You sound like you're doing really well," Dick says, and Bruce smiles. They're sitting outside on one of the park benches, enjoying the sunshine.

"I am," he says. "I feel like I'm finally making progress." He reaches for both their hands, says, "I'm sorry it's taken me so long. I can't imagine what it's been like for you two."

"It's okay," Jason says. He's getting better at lying about it, at not wanting to have a complete meltdown every time he thinks about leaving Bruce here.

"Jason's right," Dick says. "You'll be out soon, and then it'll be like it never happened."

"I don't know about that," Bruce says. "But thank you."

It starts to rain soon after that and they head back inside, Dick running on ahead of both of them, slipping in the wet grass. "Have you talked to Dick about leaving?" Bruce asks.

"No," Jason says. "Not yet."

"I could talk to him for you," Bruce offers, but Jason shakes his head.

"Soon," he says. "Just - soon."

 

*

 

It's less than a week before they get the phone call from Arkham at four in the morning. It's one of the night nurses, letting them know that there was an attempted break out - that _Bruce_ tried to escape.

"He said it was important," the woman says. "That - someone's life was in danger."

"His?" Dick asks, and Jason winces.

"No," she says. "He said - he said he had to save Robin."

After the nurse assures them that Bruce is okay, that he's safely back in his room and his doctor will be there to see him soon, they hang up the phone. Neither of them says anything for a long, long time.

Then: "I don't understand," Dick says. "He was fine."

"Maybe he wasn't," Jason says. "Maybe he had us both fooled."

Dick looks _hurt_. "Don't say that."

"I mean it, Dickie," Jason says. "He must've been planning this for a while. And when he saw us -"

The lamp on the nightstand goes flying across the room, shattering against the opposite wall. Half the room goes dark, and when Jason looks, Dick's hand is covered in blood.

"Sorry," Dick says, staring down at the blood. "Sorry, I -"

"It's," Jason stammers. "It's okay, Dickie." He makes Dick get to his feet, carefully avoiding the glass, and leads him to the bathroom to wash the blood off his hand. The cuts aren't deep, and once they're rinsed off, Jason gets to work bandaging them.

"I didn't mean," Dick says. "If I scared you, I -"

Jason shuts his eyes, feels Dick's gaze on him. _I'm always scared_ , he nearly says, but instead, he finishes wrapping Dick's hand and says, "You didn't. It's okay, just. Shit, don't go barefoot in there for a while."

For some reason that makes Dick laugh, loud and long and hysterical, and it isn't long before Jason follows him into it, his whole body shaking, tears pouring out of his eyes.

"Hey," Dick says. He pulls Jason up, into his arms, and holds him there.

"Dickie?" Jason asks. "Do you think - when he said Robin. Do you think he meant you, or me?"

Dick tenses, just for a second, but plenty long enough for Jason to notice. Then he hugs Jason tighter and says, "I don't know, Jay. I just wish he'd worry more about saving himself that saving us."

"Yeah," Jason says. Jason doesn't really see that there's a difference, but he still says, "Yeah, I guess you're right."

 

*

 

Later that summer, Jason turns seventeen, and Bruce tries to escape again. They get the call when they're on their way to see him, and when they walk into the room, Bruce is in restraints like some madman in a movie.

Dick hovers by the door, but Jason looks right at the aide and says, "Get these off of him."

"We can't yet," the aide says. "He's been dangerous, we have to -"

Jason moves into the room, sits down on the bed facing Bruce. His eyes are wild, like nothing Jason's seen in a long time, but when he sees Jason he goes still.

"There's nothing dangerous here," Jason says. He undoes the straps himself, pulls until he can hold onto Bruce. "Hey, boss," he says, and Bruce sighs, goes limp against him.

"I thought," Bruce stammers, slurs. "I wasn't sure if -"

"Ssh," Jason says. "I'm right here." He feels Dick watching him from the doorway, but he keeps his eyes on Bruce until Bruce's eyes start to flicker closed.

"Jay," Bruce mumbles then. The way he used to, when they were sweaty and exhausted, lying next to each other in their bed.

"Yeah," Jason says.

"It's your birthday," Bruce says, and Jason tenses. "I didn't get you anything."

Jason laughs, chokes on it, watches stupid tears fall on Bruce's hospital scrubs. "Next year, right?"

"Yes," Bruce says. He falls asleep in Jason's arms, heavy and snoring.

"I don't know how you do it," Dick says later when they're outside. "How you - it's not him, Jay, I…" Dick looks wrecked, just like Jason feels.

"It's Bruce," Jason says. "And whoever he is, I - he's mine."

It's what he has to tell himself now. If he doesn't -

If he doesn't, he'll end up here.

 

*

 

In October, Jason's guidance counselor sits him down to talk to him about all the school he's been missing. She doesn't mention that he reeks like pot and cigarettes, or that he's still passing all of the tests he actually takes - she just looks at him and says, "Tell me what's going on."

Jason doesn't, of course, not really. He learned a long time ago not to trust teachers, social workers, people like _her_. He tells her he's fine, and when he says it firmly enough, he almost believes himself.

It's only when he gets back home that he starts to lose it again, when he returns to a closet full of clothes that don't smell like Bruce anymore, just dust. He's read all of their favorite books, played all of the music Bruce pretended to hate.

("Fuck you," Jason said once. "You _know_ who the Clash is," and Bruce smirked, wrapped his arms around him and said, "Maybe. But you're _cute_ when you're angry.")

When he's supposed to be in school, Jason takes one of Bruce's seven zillion cars and drives, out of the city, out of the state. He'd never even _been_ out of the state, and now - now, it's all he can do to stay in this _country._

In the beginning, when Bruce took him in, Jason loved school. He didn't like all the stupid rich kids, but he was smart, and he caught on quick. He'd come back home with his homework, and if Bruce couldn't be around, Dick would sit down and help him with his homework, sing stupid songs in his ear and scarf down all the snacks Alfred made. It's not like that anymore. Now, when Jason comes home Alfred's usually the only one around. Dick won't get home until late, and sometimes he'll stumble in and collapse right on the couch if he can't make it to his or Jason's bed.

Everything is falling apart, even the stupid house. When the roof starts leaking, Dick takes it upon himself to fix it, and spends the next five weeks in a cast. Jason drives out to see Bruce by himself, and Bruce looks at him like something's missing, but Bruce hasn't said a word in -

In.

Jason talks to him anyway. He tells him about Dick falling off the ladder, about Alfred burning a batch of pancakes while swatting a bat out of the house. He tells Bruce about getting in fights, and the drives he's been taking and -

"And none of it's been the same without you," Jason says. Sometimes he falls asleep next to Bruce, and before the nurses wake him up to leave, it's almost like it used to be.

 

*

 

On Christmas Eve, Jason and Dick are curled up on the couch watching all the dumb Christmas movies that Dick likes when the doorbell rings. A minute later, Roy comes barreling into the room in front of Alfred, covering them with snow and blocking the TV.

"It seems," Alfred says from the doorway, "you have a guest. I'll set the table for one more this evening, shall I?"

Dick grins. "Yeah, Alfred," he says. "Thanks."

Alfred goes back to wherever Alfred goes, and Roy jumps on the couch, squishing Dick's face into the cushion and then switching sides and doing the same to Jason.

"Oh my god, Dickie," Roy says. "He got _big_. What have you been feeding him?"

"Oh, you know," Dick says. Jason tries to shove Roy off of him, but Roy holds on _tight_. "Oats, honey. Some gravel now and then. Whatever you're supposed to feed growing boys."

Roy finally lets him up, but stays close enough to plant a wet kiss on his cheek. "You," he tells Jason, "are not allowed to grow anymore. How am I supposed to throw you over my shoulder now?"

Jason snorts. "Guess you just don't get to."

"He's taller than me now, you know," Dick says when Roy pouts at him.

"Ugh," Roy says. "I'm disgusted with both of you." Still, when Alfred makes them hot cocoa, he lets Jason have all of his marshmallows, and later on he plays with Jason's hair when he lays his head in his lap.

"So," Jason asks. "What'd you bring us for presents?"

"That's what _I've_ been wondering," Dick says.

"What," Roy asks, "my wonderful presence isn't enough? Fucking spoiled brats."

"Uh-huh," Dick agrees. "But you must like us, to drive all this way."

"Eh, you're all right," Roy says dismissively. "Your choice in entertainment _sucks_ , though."

Dick frowns. "What's wrong with Frosty?"

"Um, there's no home invasions stopped by children, for one thing," Roy says, and Jason laughs.

"Dick says _Home Alone_ freaks him out. You know, because of all the times he's had to defend this place with a bb gun."

" _Jay_ ," Dick says, in that way that Jason can't tell if he's being serious or if it's the egg nog. "Don't _jinx_ it."

"Sorry, Dickie," Jason says. He sits up, climbs over Roy and into Dick's lap. "I'll protect you," he says and kisses him, open-mouthed and sloppy, and it's only when Roy clears his throat that Jason remembers they don't usually _do_ this around - anyone but Bruce.

Bruce never liked Christmas much.

Bruce -

"Sorry," Jason says, not looking at either of them. "Sorry, I'm - I think I'm gonna -"

"Jay," Dick starts, grabs his wrist when Jason crawls back off him and stands up, but Jason can't stand to see Dick's knowing look right now, the one that says he knows exactly what Jason's thinking about. Sometimes it's too _much_ , spending so much time together.

"It's okay," Jason says. "I'm gonna - you guys hang out. I'm gonna go to my room for a while."

"Jaybird," Roy says. Jason looks at him. "Come on, it's Christmas. You shouldn't be alone."

"Bruce is alone," Jason says, and Roy flinches.

"Hey," Dick says. He stands up, grabs Jason's face in both hands so Jason will look at him. "We'll go see Bruce tomorrow, okay? He'll like that."

"Yeah," Jason says. "Or he won't know the difference." Dick looks like Jason hit him, and Jason swears. "Sorry," he says again. "Sorry, I - Dickie, please? I just need some space."

Dick nods, asks, "You'll come down for dinner?"

"I promise," Jason says.

Dick lets him go, and Jason heads upstairs and collapses on Bruce's - his - bed. He tries to read, but none of the words make sense, so instead he calls the hospital, spends twenty minutes trying to get anyone who will let him speak to Bruce.

Finally, a woman's voice comes on. "Jason, this is Dr. Quinzel."

"Oh," Jason says. "Hey, Doc. Where's Bruce?"

"Jason," she says. Calm, not patronizing. Jason likes her, most of the time. "You know Bruce hasn't spoken in - in a long time."

"Hey," Jason tries to joke. "Can't blame me for trying for a Christmas miracle, huh?"

"Sure," Dr. Quinzel says. "How are _you_ , Jason?" she asks.

"Why? You running low on patients, Doc?"

"Oh, you're far too much for any of us to deal with," Dr. Quinzel says, and Jason damn near cracks a smile. "I know I'm not _your_ doctor," she says. "It's only - when you had hope, I think that Bruce did, too. And now…"

Jason puts his hand over his eyes. If he listens closely, he can hear Dick downstairs, drunk and singing along to _Rudolph_. "Do _you_ have hope?" _For either of us_? Jason almost adds.

"Of course I do," Dr. Quinzel says. "I wouldn't be in this profession if I didn't."

 

*

 

Dick leaves him alone for almost an hour, but just as Jason's starting to smell food coming from downstairs, there's a knock on the door and before he can even answer, Dick lets himself in and plops down on the bed, taking up just about all the space Jason isn't using.

"Hey," Dick says, turning on his side to look at Jason.

"Hi," Jason says.

"You okay?" Dick asks. His hand fumbles with the sheets like he's itching to touch Jason, but isn't sure that he can.

"No," Jason says. "But I'll be all right." He looks down. "Sorry about - about earlier. I didn't - I shouldn't have done that."

"Uh-uh," Dick says. He shifts, gets right in Jason's space until their noses are touching. He smells like the Christmas candy he's been inhaling all afternoon. "You never have to apologize for that."

"But -"

"Roy knows," Dick says simply, and when Jason takes a breath, Dick admits, "I got - really drunk with him the last time he was here. He kind of asked, and I just… It's Roy, you know?" He pinches Jason's side. "If anything, he's jealous."

Jason snorts. "I don't think Roy Harper _gets_ jealous."

"Yeah," Dick agrees. "You might be right. You seemed okay for a while, Jay. What happened?"

Jason shuts his eyes, lets out a breath. "I just. When I kissed you, I started thinking about Bruce, and how the three of us…"

It wasn't _always_ the three of them. It was only in the few months before Dick left for college that Jason convinced Bruce to stop being so _stupid_. "It's possible Dick's more in love with you than I am," Jason remembers saying once in bed, and Bruce shivered against him, moaned when Jason told him he knew what Dick's mouth felt like.

He feels Dick shift again, and then he's kissing him, licking softly along Jason's bottom lip, sliding his hands into Jason's hair, curling his leg around Jason and -

"Alfred told me to tell you," Roy says. "No pseudo-incest before you've had your dinner."

He and Dick break apart, and Roy dive-bombs onto the bed, crushing both their legs. "Ugh," Dick says. "Get off."

"No," Roy says, grinning. "That's what _you two_ were about to do, maybe." Jason feels himself blush. It was different with Bruce, but it feels strange for someone else to know about him and Dick, for someone else to know -

He never feels _good enough_ for Dick.

"Roy," Dick says. "If we let our dinner get cold, Alfred will never let us invite you over again."

Roy gets back off them like a shot, starts tugging them off the bed as well. Dick rushes down the stairs, but Roy grabs Jason at the staircase, tugs on his hand. "Hey," he says. "You wanna talk about it later?"

Jason shakes his head, but he lets Roy pull him into a hug, tight and warm and smelling like booze and cigarettes. "I don't know how much longer I can do this," Jason admits, and he feels Roy tense against him before he kisses the top of Jason's head and says, "If you need to leave, Jaybird…"

He pulls back, looks up at Roy. "I can't leave either of them. Dickie…"

"He'd be okay," Roy says. "He'd want you to be happy." When Jason doesn't say anything, Roy sighs and says, "Just think about it, okay? Let's eat before your butler kills us."

At dinner, Jason manages to cheer up a little. All the food is delicious, and because it's Christmas, Alfred actually takes them up on their offer to help with clean up - "As long as Master Richard is allowed nowhere near any dishes or cutlery." 

Afterward, Roy drags Jason and Dick outside for a snowball fight. When it turns out Roy has perfect aim, though, Jason and Dick team up on him, rushing him so they can give him a face full of snow. "This is how you treat your guests?" Roy asks, half-buried in two feet of snow, his hair and lashes dusted with snowflakes.

"Yep," Dick says. He shivers, then starts rolling around right next to Roy like some kind of giant dog.

"You're both nuts," Jason tells them. "It's freezing. I'm going back inside and -"

They both pull him down into the snow, and Dick wraps all of his limbs around him and holds him tight. "Nope," Dick says. "Not yet. Family bonding time."

"We're all gonna bond with pneumonia?" Jason asks.

"It's the illness that brings us together," Roy says.

"You're both idiots," Jason says, but he settles back against Dick, turns his head so he can watch the snow fall. Bruce never liked the snow, said it was much more enjoyable to watch it from a warm room with a book in hand, but right here, half-suffocating under Dick's eighty-seven limbs, it doesn't seem so bad.

 

*

 

"So," Dick says when Jason gets in the car. Jason has a split lip and bruised knuckles, and he's just been suspended. Again. "You wanna tell me what this is about?"

Jason looks out the window. It's raining hard, the streets a mess of puddles, raindrops pounding on the car. "What do you think, Dickie?" he asks.

"I think," Dick says. He's angrier than Jason's ever seen him, his voice rising and trembling all at once, "that if you keep doing this, you'll be throwing your life away."

"It's just a suspension," Jason says. "It's not like -"

Dick looks at him, slams on the brakes too hard when they hit a red light. "What about _college_ , Jay?"

Jason swallows. This is why - this is - "I'm not going, Dickie. At least - at least not right now."

Dick lets out a breath. "You're waiting for him, aren't you?" he asks, and then his expression softens; his grip loosens on the steering wheel. "Jay," he says. "What if Bruce never gets better? Are you just gonna - I mean…"

"What about _you_ , Dickie?" Jason asks. "It's been years since you left school. You've just been looking after _me_ all this time. Don't you want -"

"No," Dick says. He takes his right hand off the steering wheel, reaches over for Jason's hand. He smiles at Jason from the rearview mirror, and it's bright enough it could make the rain disappear. "I didn't miss out on anything, Jay. You're my brother, and - and I needed you."

Jason slips out of his seatbelt, leans far enough over to kiss Dick's cheek. Dick giggles, squirms. "You need a shave, you beast," he says.

"Yeah," Jason says. "You know I needed you too, right?"

Dick smiles again, and neither of them talk about the fact that they're speaking in past tense. Dick is - Dick could get by without him. Jason knows that now.

 

*

 

"So, I got my GED," Jason tells Bruce in April. It's stupidly hot out, and they're sitting outside under a tree. Bruce still hasn't spoken to anyone in almost a year, not even Jason. Everything he does is some kind of autopilot, but he hasn't had any kind of violent outburst in over a month.

"I know you wanted to see me graduate," Jason says. He brushes some grass out of Bruce's hair. "But I hated it there, Bruce, and I - I couldn't wait anymore. Not - not for you. I'm going to keep - I'll wait for you as long as it takes."

Bruce doesn't say anything, of course. He never does. But he leans into Jason, breathes in deep against his neck.

"I'm going to go away for a while," Jason says. "Just - a while, get out of Gotham, see - more of the world. Roy's going with me. I tried to get Dickie to come, but you know how he is. Maybe when you get better -"

Jason moves to look at Bruce, and Bruce blinks at him, his eyes foggy with the drugs that keep him calm. He wishes he could see Bruce off them again just once, just to be sure that Bruce is still -

The last time he got in a fight at school, it was because some rich punk called Bruce crazy.

"I'll come back," Jason says. "You know I will."

He kisses Bruce's forehead, then takes him by the hand and pulls him to his feet, leads him back to his room. Like always, he ignores the noise from the other patients, ignores everything but Bruce's hand holding tightly to his.

Before he leaves, he goes to see Dr. Quinzel. She's in her office with the door open, writing something on a notepad.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi, Jason," she says. She sets her pen down, turns in her chair. "How are you?"

"I'm," Jason starts. "I just wanted you to know that I'll be gone for a while. I'm - not sure how long."

She nods. "That could be really good for you. This place, it can be - draining."

"Yeah," Jason says. "I just - it eats me up when I don't see him, but I…"

Dr. Quinzel stands up, crosses the room and puts her hand on his shoulder. There's a tattoo on her wrist in the shape of a diamond, and her nails are bright red. "You can't think about it like that," she says. "You have to do this for you. Get out. See the world. I promise Bruce will be here when you get back." When Jason flinches, she says, "That's - not what I meant. I hope he's _not_ , but…"

Jason smiles. "I know what you meant," he says. "Thanks for everything, Dr. Quinzel."

"Of course," she says. She squeezes his shoulder before she lets go. "And I told you, call me Harley."

"Right," Jason says. "Harley. Thank you. If you need anything, you can call Dick, but if something happens -"

"I'll track you down," Dr. Quinzel says. "Now go on. Enjoy your trip. Have _fun_."

Jason laughs. "I'll try," he promises.

 

*

 

The night before Jason leaves, Dick comes into his room around 2AM.

"Hey, buddy," Dick says. He's wearing boxers and one of Bruce's old t-shirts, and his hair looks like it's been attacked by his pillow. "You all packed?"

"Just about," Jason says. He closes his book and sets it on the nightstand, and Dick gets on the end of the bed. Jason reaches out and tugs him until he's half on Jason's lap. He's smaller than Jason now, and Jason's still not sure how that happened.

"Hey," Dick says, smiling up at him through the hair that falls over his eyes.

"Hey," Jason says. He pushes Dick's hair back, asks, "You sure you don't want to come with us?"

"Nah," Dick says. He squirms on Jason's lap. "All that time in the car, I'd get too antsy."

"I could get you a coloring book," Jason offers.

Dick grins. "With scented crayons?"

"Sure," Jason says. He squeezes Dick's hips, and Dick sighs, lets his head fall back.

"No," he says. "I've gotta stay here. Bruce -" he starts, and Jason flinches. "Hey, no," Dick says. He reaches for Jason, tips forward and kisses his cheek, the space between his eyes. "You _need_ this."

"Yeah," Jason says. "But -"

"Jay," Dick says. He pulls back to look at him. "You come back too soon, I'll change the locks."

Jason snorts. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, I totally would," Dick says. He twists his hips just right, like that time he dragged Jason out dancing, and Jason groans. "I'd get Alfred in on it, too."

Jason laughs. " _Please_ don't talk about Alfred when you're grinding your dick on me," he says, and Dick giggles, leans forward and kisses him, drags Jason's t-shirt up.

"I just," Jason says while Dick kisses his jaw, his throat. "I just don't want to leave you all alone in this big creepy house, you know?"

"'s not creepy," Dick says. "I'm gonna throw all the parties you were too grouchy to let me throw." Jason pinches his ass, and Dick jumps, knocks his head into Jason's jaw.

"Just watch Wally around the expensive crap, okay?" Jason asks, and Dick grins against his neck, sucks a bruise there.

"Anything for you, Jay," Dick says, and Jason grabs him and tosses him on the bed, gets between his legs.

"Animal," Dick says fondly, and Jason pushes Dick's shirt up and kisses his stomach, tugs his boxers down and noses at the dark trail of hair there. "Should've known you'd outgrow me," Dick says, and Jason blinks up at him.

"Never that," Jason says, and slips Dick's cock into his mouth.

"Mm," Dick says. "But you got so _big_."

Jason releases him with a slurp, winks and says, "It's cuz _I_ ate all my vegetables."

"Uh-huh," Dick says. "Among other forms of protein."

Jason pinches him again, sucks him back down and takes it slower than usual so he can really taste Dick, so he can remember the feel of him in his mouth, his _scent_. Dick drags one hand through his hair, uses the other to pinch his own nipples, and he's so fucking beautiful, so -

"Jay," Dick says. His hips arch off the bed and Jason grabs a handful of his ass, moans _hard_ when he feels Dick hit the back of his throat. "God, Jay," Dick says. "Need - I need -"

He pulls back, licks his lips and asks, "What do you need, Dickie?"

Dick moves, lifts his legs over Jason's head and pulls his boxers off, then wraps his legs around Jason. "That's better," Dick says, and when Jason sucks him again he has to agree. Dick's legs squeeze him with every slurp and suck, and Dick's hands are tight in his hair, and when Jason grinds against the bed he thinks he could come right here, just like this.

"Do it," Dick says, like he can read his thoughts. "Touch yourself, Jay. You like this so _much_."

He nods, moans louder, gets his hands down his boxers and _squeezes_ as Dick comes down his throat. He pulls off and Dick releases him slowly, first his legs and then his hands, before he tackles Jason back on the bed, kissing him all over until he reaches his mouth and licks his way inside. He slides his hand between them, gets it around Jason's cock.

"Fuck," Jason says. Dick sucks another bruise into Jason's neck, says, "Come on, Jay. Come for me." He reaches down and cups Jason's balls, grips his ass with his other hand, and Jason _whimpers_ for him, spills all over both of them.

Dick pulls back, brings his hand up to his mouth and licks it clean with the same casual obscenity he uses to lick a popsicle. Jason kicks his boxers off, lays back against the bed and Dick moves over and curls up next to him. They stay there for a while just breathing, until Jason's eyes start to droop and Dick says, "I am gonna be okay, you know."

"Yeah," Jason says. "I know."

"But," Dick says. He tips his head up to look at Jason, his lips swollen and his cheeks still a little pink. "You better send me presents."

"Gas station souvenirs?" Jason asks, and Dick beams at him.

"Exactly," he says.

 

*

 

He sends postcards from the road, both to Dick and Bruce. He knows Bruce probably doesn't read them, but he fills up every line anyway, telling him about how Roy loses $500 in Atlantic City, how in Florida they swim right past a shark and Roy spends the afternoon telling anyone who will listen about their "near death experience."

He doesn't call Dick as often as he should. For the first couple of days, he tries - texts Dick from gas stations and crummy motels, calls him after Roy passes out next to him. But whenever he starts to ask about Bruce, his throat closes up and all he can see is the room where Bruce lives now, the sun that comes through the curtains there around mid-afternoon.

In Dallas, Roy takes his phone away. "Didn't anyone ever tell you how to have an adventure?"

Jason snorts. "Listen, Kerouac, what if there's an emergency?"

Roy blows a raspberry at him. "First of all, _you're_ Kerouac. I am most definitely Neal Cassady."

"Uh-huh," Jason says. "And second?"

"And second, the point of this was for you to _live_ a little."

"Huh," Jason says. He rolls down his window so he can catch a little of the rain that's pouring down. "I thought the point of this was so you could fuck me over the hood of your Chevy."

"Heh." Roy grins. "Definitely that, too."

Jason sprawls out on the seat, and Roy has to pull the car over to the side of the road and drag him out by the wrist. They fuck with the rain spraying down on them, and for a minute while Roy's sucking bruises into the back of his neck, gripping him so hard it would've broken him years ago - for a second, Jason's not thinking about anything back in Gotham, not even Bruce.

They get back in the car, and Roy hits play on his iPod and they sing along to the music from the shitty fucking band he was in.

For a little while, Jason remembers what it's like to be happy.

 

*

 

It's the middle of June by the time they get to Seattle. Roy leaves his car in the parking lot of his apartment complex, and they take a cab to the airport. When they're waiting to board, Roy finally relinquishes Jason's phone so he can call Dick.

The phone rings, and rings, and Jason keeps trying until he gives up and finally leaves a message. "Hey," he says. "I was just - you must actually be out living your _life_ right now, but - we're getting on a plane soon. London, then Paris, then - wherever this idiot takes me."

" _Hey_ ," Roy says, loud enough for Dick to hear.

"Anyway, I - you know how to reach me if you need anything, but… Just wanted to say goodbye for a bit. I'll keep sending postcards. I - tell Bruce I miss him, okay?" Roy reaches over and squeezes his wrist, right over the tattoo he got in Salt Lake City. "I miss you too, Dickie."

When Jason hangs up, Roy reaches over, drags him in and kisses him until final boarding call, ignoring everyone around them. He tastes like the drinks that they had at the airport bar, and he smells like whiskey and weed, and when he breaks off he grins at Jason and asks, "You ready to disappear?"

"Yeah," Jason says. "You bet."

 

*

 

They stay in London for two weeks. Roy takes him to every filthy pub in the city, drags him on dumb tourist excursions, gets him high on absinthe he bought from a friend in Brixton. They run through the streets, through the rain, back up to their hotel where they fuck for what feels like hours, slow and quiet as the rain that drips off the rooftops.

From there, they hit Paris. The only French Jason knows is from when Bruce would read Rimbaud and Baudelaire aloud, and so they wander lost and confused for days on end, full of wine and weed, eating nothing but bread and cheese. Roy pulls him into a grimy tattoo parlor their last day there, and Jason gets more words inked into his skin, words Bruce used to read to him - in the study with the rain battering the windows, out on the patio when the weather was warm, in the car on the way to another stupid party.

Afterward, they go to some club, and Jason licks ecstasy out of Roy's mouth and leads him onto the dancefloor. They get lost in the center, in bright lights and pulsing music. It's only when Roy grinds against him that Jason thinks about Dick, about that time Dick took him to the club and Bruce was _furious_ , kept saying that Jason was too young.

("Uh-huh," Jason teased him. He had a fleck of glitter on his lip, eyeliner smudged under his eyes, and he was wearing one of Dick's old t-shirts. "But I'm not too young when you fuck me, am I?" Bruce looked horrified, but Jason just laughed, let Bruce lick the sweat from his collarbone and dig fingerprints into his hips while Dick slipped by his jeans down to his ankles.)

"Hey," Roy says now, right against his ear. He sucks on Jason's jaw, licks at the new piercing in his ear. "Where'd you go?"

Jason sighs, leans back against him. Roy keeps his hands on Jason's hips, under his t-shirt. "Just thinking about home, I guess," he says.

"Uh-uh," Roy says. "That's not what you're here for. Shut your eyes, Jaybird."

Jason does, and Roy holds him, moves with him, makes him focus on the beat of the music, the flash of lights behind his eyes. Roy kisses him softly, more like that first time back home, and Jason reaches back and runs his hands through Roy's hair, pulls out the ponytail and lets the hairband drop to the floor.

"There you go," Roy says against his mouth. "I don't know all those French words, but -"

"Mais la voix me console et dit," Jason says. "Garde tes songes; les sages n'en ont pas d'aussi beaux que les fous!"

"Jesus," Roy says. He laughs, turns Jason around and sucks a kiss into his neck. "That was hot. So how come you can't even order us dinner?"

Jason shrugs. "Bruce only read poetry, not menus."

Roy sighs, pulls him in closer and kisses his forehead. They're not even dancing anymore, just standing in each other's space. "Oh, Jay," he says. "Come on. Let's get back to the hotel and you can tell me all about it."

They make their way off the dancefloor, down block after meandering block until they get to the hotel, where they get into an argument in pathetic French with the hotel manager because they both lost their keys. Finally, they get upstairs and Jason collapses on the sheets, strips off all his clothes and rubs against the bed all ecstasy high.

Roy follows him a minute later, jumps on top of him and rubs his stubble all over Jason's skin, licks every part of him until Jason comes for what feels like forever. He falls asleep with Roy snoring on his chest, the moon shining in through the curtains, the taste of Roy on his tongue.

 

*

 

When Roy gets the call, they're on the train to Naples, drinking wine out of a flask and staring out at the countryside. Roy answers the phone - it's ringing some stupid Disney song -, and after a second he says, "Yeah. He's right here," and hands the phone over to Jason.

"Dickie?" Jason asks.

"Jay," Dick says, and Jason feels warmer than three glasses of wine just from the sound of his voice.

"What's going on?" Jason asks. Even for them, the call is expensive, and he hasn't heard from Dick in months - not even an e-mail. It's September, and back home the grounds must be covered in leaves.

"It's Bruce," Dick says, and Jason starts to panic, feels his breathing start to get all fucked up until Dick says, "He's talking again, Jay."

"He's?" Jason asks. Roy takes his other hand, and Dick says, "It started about two weeks ago. I would've called sooner, but I didn't want you to get your hopes up."

Jason lets out a breath. "How is he?" he asks, and he can hear the smile in Dick's voice when he says, "He's like Bruce, Jay. He's been asking about you. He thought…"

Jason waits, squeezes Roy's hand way too hard. "He thought what, Dickie?"

"He thought you were dead," Dick says. "I don't know - I don't know _why_ , but as soon as he was lucid that's what he told me. He said when he saw you, while he was… That he thought you were a ghost."

Every part of Jason is shaking, and he needs to open a window, needs to get off this train and run until his lungs burn, needs -

"I'm," Jason says. "I…"

"I know, Jay," Dick says. "Just come home, okay? Everything will be okay if you just come home."

Jason says goodbye and hangs up the phone, and Roy holds him while he shakes, while he screams into his chest. Roy hums Leonard Cohen at him, makes him eat when the food cart comes by and wraps him up in his arms at the next stop while they get off the train.

Roy comes with him to the airport, but he's not coming back to Gotham. "This is a family thing," Roy says.

"Idiot," Jason says. " _You're_ family."

"Yeah, but," Roy says. "You know what I mean."

He gives Roy a hug before he gets to security, holds on as tight as he can until Roy says, "Go on. Text me when you get there."

"I will," Jason promises. He's starting to panic again, but after security he pops the two valiums Roy slipped into his pocket, and he doesn't wake back up until he sees the Gotham skyline.

 

*

 

Dick greets him at the airport, looking like some idiot richboy with his big black sunglasses and his nice haircut. He pulls Jason into a hug, lifting Jason off his feet like they're both five years younger. "Someone attack you with a scissors?" Jason teases.

"Yeah," Dick says. He plays with the messy curls of Jason's hair, rubs his face against Jason's stubble. "And you're next."

"Fucker," Jason says.

"Uh-huh," Dick agrees. "Missed you, too."

Jason waits until they're in the car before he says, "Well? How is he?"

Dick takes a breath, turns away from the road and just _looks_ at Jason. "He's - I don't want to tell you he's exactly how he used to be, but he's - he's better, Jay." He looks back at the road. "They finally put him on pills that work, and he's just… I went to see him yesterday, and he smiled at me like - I forgot he could _look_ like that, Jay."

"Fuck," Jason says. He rubs at his face. It's barely 7AM, and he knows Bruce won't be awake yet, but he wants to see him _now_.

Like he knows - of course he does - Dick says, "Let's stop and grab some breakfast. They'll have to let us in by then."

Jason smirks. "You're really getting that entitled thing down, you know."

Dick sticks his tongue out at him. They find a diner not too far from Arkham, and Dick orders pancakes and eggs and bacon and sausage, kicks Jason under the table to get him to eat even a bite of his omelette.

"When Alfred sees how skinny you are he's gonna freak out," Dick says around a mouthful of syrup and maybe pancakes.

"I'm not _skinny_ ," Jason argues.

"Eat your eggs," Dick says, kicking him again. 

It's almost nine by the time they get to Arkham. The hallways are noisy with everyone coming and going to breakfast, and after they sign in, Dick leads him to a different room than Jason remembers. Dick knocks on the outside of the door, and Jason -

Jason forgets to breathe when Bruce looks up at him, when he sets down the book he's reading - _the Odyssey_ , like he hasn't read it a hundred times -, when he stands up and moves toward Jason and -

"Bruce," Jason says when Bruce pulls him into the kind of hug that chokes, that suffocates, that makes his chest feel like it's going to burst right open. Bruce says, "Jay," and it's only Bruce that's holding him up, that's keeping him from falling right down to the floor.

Bruce keeps a hold on him, but he pulls away enough to look at him. "I didn't think," he says, and then he lets out a breath, shuts his eyes for a second before he says, "I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again."

"I'm right here," Jason says. "I'm not going anywhere. Not - not without you." His hands shake when he brings them to Bruce's face, to the thick, dark beard there, but he's perfectly steadily when he leans forward and kisses him for the first time in -

He doesn't want to think about how long.

Bruce _whimpers_ and kisses him back, licking his way inside his mouth like the first time he ever convinced Bruce to touch him, like that first night in his bed with the wind blowing through the curtains and Bruce's hand wrapped tight around him.

They break off and turn to look at Dick, standing in the doorway and watching them with his mouth half open. "Well," Dick says finally. "If that's not a welcome home, then I don't know what is."

Jason half-laughs, half-sobs, then puts his head on Bruce's shoulder and asks, "When do we get to take you back?"

"You must be crazy to want to," Bruce teases. He rubs Jason's back, gestures for Dick to come in closer, and Jason feels so warm surrounded by both of them, like he could sleep for years just like this. "Soon, I think," Bruce says. "As long as I take my medicine, they say - they say I should be good."

No more bats. No more late nights of Bruce worrying about the streets of Gotham, no more Robin.

They spend the day with Bruce. Jason and Dick run around outside like idiot kids while Bruce relaxes under the tree with his book, and when they get tired he reads aloud to them, doing different voices for each character. Jason falls asleep with his head in Bruce's lap, with Dick's head in his, both of them covered in grass stains.

Before they leave, they go to see Dr. Quinzel.

"Jason," she says. "It's good to see -"

"Is it true?" Jason asks. "Can he come home?"

Dr. Quinzel smiles, something bright and toothy that Jason doesn't remember ever seeing before. "Soon," she says. "I want to give him another week with this medication, but after that - he's all yours."

Jason knows it's probably inappropriate to hug her, but he does anyway, and she makes this adorable little squeaking noise before she hugs him back. Dick gets in on it, too, tries to lift both of them up until Dr. Quinzel laughs and squeezes her way out of it.

"Seriously," Jason says. "Thank you."

"Of course," Harley says. "You boys be good. This next week will pass like nothing at all."

 

*

 

It doesn't, of course. They visit Bruce every day, hang out in the city every night, and as happy as Jason is to spend time with Dick again, every minute still drags. At a bar downtown, he tells Dick stories from his time with Roy, and Dick tells him about all of his old friends, that he's going to enroll in the spring semester at Gotham U closer to home.

"That's great, Dickie," Jason says, and he means it not just because it means Dick isn't _leaving_ this time.

"Yeah," Dick says. "I mean, it's a ways away. If Bruce… if this all doesn't…."

Jason reaches for him, touches his hand. "Then you'll still go. You put your life on hold for years, man. It's time to start again."

Dick frowns. "It was never like that, Jay. Not for a second."

"Dickie…" Jason starts, but Dick shakes his head, pushes him against the bar and kisses him for the first time since Jason's been back. He tastes like some fruity cocktail and he smells like coconut shampoo, and when Dick pulls back, he says, "My life wasn't on hold. The two of you _are_ my life. Dummy."

"Sap," Jason counters, but he kisses Dick again and lets him lead him onto the dance floor, presses himself against Dick until everything between them makes sense again.

They leave the club at two in the morning, drunk and happy and in total disbelief that Bruce is really coming home in a matter of _hours_. On the cab ride home, they make out like idiot teenagers, and Jason leaves hickeys all over Dick's neck because he knows Bruce will get to see them soon.

 

*

 

In the morning, Alfred drives them to Arkham to pick Bruce up. He doesn't show it, but Jason knows he's just as excited as they are, knows that unlike Jason, Alfred never lost hope for even a second.

"Oh, really," Alfred says when they get there. It's been raining hard, and Bruce is out on the steps in nothing but a t-shirt and jeans holding his two suitcases up, head tilted up while he gets poured on. "Is he so thrilled to return home that he'd like to contract pneumonia?" Alfred asks.

"Dunno," Jason says, grinning. "Guess we'll ask him."

He and Dick get out of the car and go up to Bruce. "Alfred wants to know if you're trying to catch a cold," Dick tells Bruce.

" _Pneumonia_ ," Jason corrects. He takes one of Bruce's suitcases, and Dick takes the other.

Bruce looks down at them and smiles, then back up at the sky. His shirt is soaked straight through, and he must have been out here for a while. "Almost three years," Bruce says. "Three years since I felt the rain on my face."

Dick and Jason look at each other, and then they each take one of Bruce's hands. "You'll have plenty of time for that now," Dick promises. "But right now, Alfred's probably ready to grab you by the ear and pull you to the car, so come on."

Bruce laughs and follows them to the car, and when they get inside he shakes himself off like a dog. "Truly, Master Bruce," Alfred says. "Do they erase your manners in that place?"

"Maybe," Bruce says. "Or maybe I'm just so happy to be leaving I can't be bothered with them."

"Ah," Alfred says. "Yes, well." He doesn't say anything else, but Jason catches Alfred looking back at Bruce all the way home, like he can't believe this is happening, either.

When they get home, Dick and Jason take Bruce's suitcases upstairs. Nothing's really changed all that much in the manor since Bruce has been gone, except -

"Oh," Jason says when they get to Bruce's bedroom. The bed is made, but Jason's books are on the nightstand, Dick's clothes all over the floor from last night. "We've been sleeping in here, since you left."

"We'll move back," Dick says, pulling at his wet hair. "Or at least, I can, if -"

"No," Bruce says. He looks at both of them with the kind of warmth Jason hasn't seen in years, with the kind of _heat_ -

"I hardly think that will be necessary," Bruce says. He touches one of the bruises on Dick's neck, runs his fingers through Jason's hair. He licks his lips, steps back and strips off his wet t-shirt, and Jason -

"Bruce," Jason says, his voice no louder than a rasp. "Are you - I mean, is this -"

"Jay," Bruce says. "Dick. I promise not to try to recruit you for some secret vigilante army. Now please, please come to bed with me."

Jason almost yells at him for _joking_ about it, but then Dick laughs and jumps on the bed, and Jason's not about to be left _out_. He kisses Bruce, then Dick, watches them kiss each other with that old mix of jealousy and _need_ while he strips his clothes off. The rain pounds on the window and Jason loses track of time, loses track of anything but Bruce's mouth on his, Bruce's cock inside of him for the first time in _years_ , Dick's voice in his ear saying _yes, Jay, god, so pretty._

The sky is almost black by the time they all clean up and head downstairs for lunch, but when Bruce looks at him from across the table, touches his ankle with his foot and hides his vegetables in his napkin - Jason feels warmer than sunshine.


End file.
